


Do you remember Purgatory?

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring Castiel, Castiel in the Bunker, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Season 9 AU, Sick Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 08:57:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1157702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean gets sick, and Cas nurses him back to health.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do you remember Purgatory?

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on [tumblr](http://samshinee.tumblr.com/post/84176967964/ao3-do-you-ever-miss-purgatory-castiel) and posted as part of 'Stories From The Bunker' (but I like this ficlet, so I'm posting it separately.)

  

“Do you ever miss Purgatory?”

Castiel frowns. “Why would I miss being chased by Leviathans?”

“No, no, not that.” Dean giggles, but not in the annoyingly high-pitched way a preteen would; it’s a soft sound, almost childlike, and just a tad sleepy. He’s been in a sort of daze all day, and blamed it on the damn medicine.

The TV is on, the volume low, and Dean isn’t really paying attention to the program that’s on, as he keeps drifting in an out of sleep. He’s outstretched on the sofa, his head on Castiel’s lap and Castiel’s hand in Dean’s hair, running his fingers through it. There’s a soft blanket covering Dean almost completely, and a bowl of half-eaten soup on the table, next to the box of the tablets Dean had almost been forced to take.

He’d woken up in the early hours of the morning in a cold sweat, shivering and nauseated, and had barely managed to reach the waste bin before emptying the contents of his stomach in it. Cas was on his side at once, alert and eyes wide in worry, even if he’d been abruptly awoken a second ago. He’d called out Dean’s name in question a couple of times, the concern evident in his tone. And then he’d spend the rest of the night and the next day as well nursing Dean back to health.

Which included tucking Dean in bed and covering him in big, soft blankets, and feeding him soup and fruits, even when he complained, demanding “real food.” Then Cas made him toast with honey and brought him tea and orange juice, insisting that Dean obeys because apparently Cas had obtained a medical degree overnight and knew all about taking care of a sick person now.

The worst part had been when Cas went out to buy some flu medicine and brought it back and offered it to Dean.

Dean very nearly knocked the glass of water out of Cas’ hand. “I don’t need no damn medicine, come on! It’s just a cold, I’ll be better tomorrow!”

“You’ll be better tomorrow if you take these.” Cas’ voice had been firm, his gaze resembling something angelic, a look Dean hadn’t seen in a very long time, but recognized anyway; Cas wasn’t going to budge.

He took the pills, but as a ‘reward’, he got out of bed and headed for the main room, despite Castiel’s protests. Cas found him a while later drifting off in front of the TV, and wrapped him in a blanket again before taking a seat next to him.

“That’s not what I meant,” Dean says a long time later, surprising Cas, who’d thought that Dean had fallen asleep again. “I mean when I found you, you know.”

“Mm.” Cas isn’t making much sense of what Dean was saying, but the sickness and the medicine had affected Dean, putting his mind in a haze.

“ _Ca-as_ ,” Dean doesn’t intend for his voice to come sound that whiny, but it does. “You’re not listening.”

Cas sighs and closes his book, placing it on the table next to him. “I am listening, Dean. What is it? Do you need something else?” he says as he gazes down at Dean, his blue eyes clouded with worry. His hand comes to rest on Dean’s forehead, and too late he realizes how hot Dean’s skin feels. “Dean, you are terribly hot.”

Dean grins, not missing a beat. “Thanks, I like to think so, too.”

“No, you’re feverish.”

Cas gets up, and shifts on his feet for a second, unsure of what to do next. It’s too soon to give Dean any more pills, and maybe he should go ask Sam if they have a thermometer…

Dean’s hand wraps around his wrist, stopping him from walking away. “Is that when you knew?” his voice is faint, barely audible.

“Knew what, Dean? When?”

“Purgatory, Cas!” Dean drops his hand from Cas’ wrist, and now he sounds angry, or disappointed.

“Dean…”

A small smile plays on Dean’s lips as he utters, weakly, “I think that’s when I knew,” and his eyes close again, and he drifts back into sleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This sort of comes from my theory that Dean realised he loved Cas in Purgatory.


End file.
